Budablog

A Prism

I lost a dear, dear friend to cancer last night. It was a cancer she battled with the ferocity of a warrior through an incredible amount of pain, all with the goal of more time with her children, her husband, and her dog. I am devastated. Although I knew it was coming one day (she was very clear that it was incurable and it would kill her), she did not accept it and continued to live and fight hard as though it would not, so how could I not believe that, as well?

I feel like I barely got to know her, and I also feel that she was a much better friend to me than I was to her. Over the past year, she made special dates for breakfast at three places she loved and wanted to share with me, because she knew how much I loved going out for breakfast. We talked long after breakfast was over, mostly about our kids—how we worried about them, but knew they were going to be ok.

We kinda sorta knew one another through mutual friends until almost exactly 10 years ago, when we were both inexplicably included in a discussion group on creativity via the book The Artist’s Way. Going through the book made us share things about ourselves that we probably otherwise would not have so early in a friendship, but I’m glad it did. Stacie threw herself into every single project we did—she never talked about her efforts being silly or dumb—she just accepted the task, thought deeply and hard about what she wanted to say or do with the project, and then did it.

We did a lot of projects over the years, but there are two that I think are best represented here. I had vaguely known that Stacie had gone through a breast cancer scare when her youngest was an infant, but I didn’t really know her then, so I didn’t process it so much. Plus, you know, it was way in the past. I had recommended the Haruki Murakami book Kafka on the Shore to Stacie, and she created a project based on the front quote in the book (the one about being in a sandstorm and how it changes you—I’ve quoted it here before). She shared that that was how she saw her cancer battle at the time, and it made me appreciate that whole part of her life that I hadn’t known until that point.

She quite literally made me a better person. For some reason, a little more than two years ago, she asked me (the most out of shape person in our group) to do the Chicago Triathlon with her because, why not? It would give us something to shoot for. Unfortunately, that was when her cancer returned with a vengeance. “I can’t do it, Carol, but you should still do it.” So, I did. It was a great and gratifying experience and I was so scared at that time, but Stacie came with me to the registration and made me feel invincible. I may now have to do another one. Damn it, Stacie.

The other project was last year. We originally started putting money into a kitty to save up for a trip to Tuscany. When it was clear we were not going to do that, we decided to go up to an artists retreat near Dodgeville, WI and create fairie houses. I get no end of grief from both my family and friends about my little fairie house, created out of wood, birch, twigs and shells. I love it, but it’s out in gazebo where it does not attract a lot of attention.

Stacie was so happy building hers. She asked me to take lots of pictures of all of us, and her, building our houses, so I did. She was beaming with pure joy. I was at her house on Monday and got to tell her how much I love her. “Back atcha,” she said. She was surrounded by projects we had done through the years and surrounded by quilts and knitted comforters my friends in the group had made for her. I made dinner for family last night. At the foot of the stairs right next to her front door was her beautiful fairie house. Her sister said she had specifically wanted it somewhere she could see it every day.

She lived a life filled with light and love and joy and spun it out like a prism to all of us making us all a bit more shiny and bright and colorful. I will look for that prism in everything I do. Thank you for for being such a great friend, Stace.

Adventures in Gardening, Part 2 (I think)

Well, everything I initially planned to plant is in the ground. The weeds seem to be growing faster than most of my plants at this point, but I am seeing flowers and some baby buds on my tomatoes, my cukes, and my peppers. My spinach is not large, but every time we pull a leaf out we are bowled over by its fresh spinachy taste. My herbs look (and smell) amazing.

I still can’t really tell if I’ll get beets or bush beans or eggplant or carrots, but I’m going to try to be patient, keep weeding, watering and feeding, and try to figure out a mulchy way to beat back the aggressive weeds.

I just can’t really look too closely at my neighbors’ gardens because they are lush and fabulous. Right now, they look like the “after” picture to my shabby little version of “can this garden be saved?” No looking, Carol. Keep your eyes on the tomato prize. Even if it’s only one…

Barack Obama Being Adorable with Adorable Children

alexleo:

Just Another Day at the Office

This was the view from my commute.

Not bad, eh?

I’m in DC for the Afterschool for All Challenge. I’ve worked on afterschool policy for more than a decade now, but this was the first Challenge I’d attended. Yesterday, I participated in a panel where someone I respect very deeply called me “the person who knows the most about the 21st Century Community Learning Centers program” which is the largest investment the federal government makes in afterschool programs for low income students. And, of course, every year it must fight for its funding, and “make the case” as to why this is money we should spend (as opposed to, you know, two wars and tax cuts for the millionaires.)

Well, this is why:

This is Vanessa.

Vanessa is 15 years old, goes to high school on the South Side of Chicago, and is an incredibly accomplished pastry chef, thanks to the afterschool program she has attended since 7th grade, After School Matters. She got up in front of a group of about 200 people this morning (including Senator Barbara Boxer and Kevin Sorbo of Hercules fame) and told them very eloquently that the culinary program at After School Matters changed her life.

She and her “family” (that’s what she calls them) from her program spent 400 hours creating this!

(which, by sheer and total coincidence, I had posted to my facebook page as one of the coolest things I’d ever seen. Total coincidence.)

Then, I had the privilege of spending the day with her as part of a group of 7 of us from Illinois made the rounds on Capitol Hill visiting staffers from Senator Durbin and Kirk’s offices, and Representatives Davis and Rush. And she made the case as passionately each time, and we just sat there in awe, and threw in a couple of facts and figures here and there. There were about 250 of us from many states around the country. And you know what was confirmed for us again? Republicans suck. “Hey, we’ve got to reduce the deficit in order to invest in America (and not raise taxes), and while your program is a good idea, we simply can’t afford it, and it’s not the government’s role.” That’s the message many of our colleagues heard today.

How is Vanessa not an investment in America?